


Music Drabbles

by chaosfay



Series: Random Gifts Trades and One Shots [9]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst, Angst and Humor, Battle, Dancing, Dreams, Dreams and Nightmares, F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Happy, Hiding, Humor, Inspired by Music, Joyful, Laughter, Music, Night Terrors, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Running Away, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-20
Updated: 2015-04-20
Packaged: 2018-03-25 00:41:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 2,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3790198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaosfay/pseuds/chaosfay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The stories here are all written based on a tumblr writing drabble I saw.  The rules are simple: set your music to shuffle, press play, and each song is a drabble.  You have the length of that song to write something.  It's an excellent warm-up exercise and has helped me flesh out my characters.  More will be added as I write them.  I hope you enjoy what you see here!  More tags will be added depending on what is posted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Song: Aftermath, New London Consort, Elizabeth (OST)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This bit is prior to http://archiveofourown.org/works/3583470

“I want you.  Nothing but you.”  Cullen’s voice was deeper, husky with desire, firm.  “Come to me, be with me.”  He approached her, wearing nothing but his pants and boots.  
  
Delylah’s heart was racing in her chest, palms sweating.  “No, this isn’t right.”  She shook her head, backing away.  
  
“It is.  We are right.  Forget the world, forget the demands.  Be with me.”  He made to touch her, but Delylah stepped away, out of reach.  
  
“This isn’t real.  You’re not Cullen.  He would never say that. Never!”  She screamed at him, at whatever this was.    
  
“I am Cullen, beloved.  I love you, and only want you to be happy, to feel like a woman.”  There was no softness to him, not in his voice nor his eyes.  “I know you want to feel like a woman again, not the Inquisitor, not the Herald, not an idea, but just as Delylah.”    
  
“No!  You are not Cullen!  Get away from me, demon!  GO!  I will not let you have me!”  
  
His face darkened, not with blush but with something else.  “You want me.”  
  
“YOU ARE NOT CULLEN!”  She screamed when he, it touched her.  
  
She was in her tent, he was there, but was it him?  
  



	2. Song: Katniss Afoot, James Newton Howard, The Hunger Games (OST)

Ghanima moved happily, her feet soft on the ground.  The forest was magnificent.  She had heard only stories, legends, but this was real.  All the green, the sounds of the birds, the warmth.  No walls, no cold stone trapping her.  There were animals moving about.  So many of them!  
  
The tears of joy fell freely down her face as they traveled through, and she made certain to take her time.  She didn’t know how long she’d have to enjoy this.  Every breath of it was precious, cherished.  So far from the cold and snow to a place of home.


	3. Song: The Countess Cathleen/Women of the Sidhe, Bill Whalen, Riverdance: Music from the Show

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have a headcanon that Celtic music is what the Dalish play.

The music was such a refreshing break from the Orlesian noise she had to endure for weeks.  Now in a tavern, on their way back to Skyhold, the bard had seen to it proper music filled the room.  The fiddles, the drums, all of it.  As soon as that song had started others had joined in.  Not the quiet her companions had hoped for, and she didn’t care.  For once in a long while she didn’t care.  This was the music of her people made possible by the bard.

Ghanima was the first on the floor, dancing away, bare feet over the solid wood.  Then Solas took her hands in his and joined in.  He knew the steps well, and laughed with her.  A few other elves were present and joined in.  The drums became louder, as did the pounding of their feet on the floor.  The heat of the dance ran through her blood, hot and burning.  The room came alight with the power of the song, the breath of the dancer, the whirling of the dance.  
  
More joined, the floor filled with the souls afire.  Around and around, up, around again, lift, spin, foot here, foot there, slide, spin, lift.  Laughter broke free, as did her tears and voice joining in.  She could hear the clapping of those still seated, building the fire of the dance.  
  
Cassandra joined in, laughing as well, caught in the grace and speed.  Then Cullen, who had so claimed not to be a dancer.  Leliana moved with ease, knowing the steps from her own travels.  Iron Bull moved with surprising light-footed steps, pulling Dorian with him.  The tavern filled with them, moving as one, as butterflies freed from their holding, all as one and filled with joy denied.  
  
She was Ghanima again.


	4. Song: Vikings Sail Home, The Vikings (OST), Steven Richard Davis, Steve Tavaglione, Brian Kilgore, Tina Guo, and Mel Wesson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kept Alistair as a Warden. He and Jasmine Amell married, and have a daughter. You can read more about that here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/3176999

Jasmine traveled alone.  She missed her husband, their daughter, the feeling of home.  Now she was avoiding roads, inns, aware she may be hunted by her fellow Grey Wardens.  It was a dangerous time to be a Warden, even after everything they had done for Thedas, for the people.  
  
Now here she was, alone for the first time in many years, and doing her best to stay alive.  
  
Was Alistair alive?  Was Anabel?


	5. Song: Marta’s Dance/The Russian Dervish, Riverdance: Music from the Show, Bill Whalen

Ghanima moved with the grace of a gazelle leaping through the high grasses.  Mage she may be, but she was not so grounded to be left a standing target.  
  
Magic flowed through and out as she danced around her enemies.  The steps, the dance of death, she looked to be enjoying herself.  The Venatori, the Red Templars, they never stood a chance.  
  
Cassandra focused on defense, Iron Bull on offense, Cole weaving between them, and Ghanima apart and there.  Barrier, stone fist, lightning, fire, and laughter.  She was more alive when so close to death.  Blood in her mouth, was it her own?  She didn’t care.  Her companions didn’t laugh, nor heard it.  They heard the screams, the curses, not Ghanima.  That one burned, running before falling, his lungs melted in his chest.  Cole was there, then there, a shadow slitting throats without flinching.  Iron Bull lost himself in battle, taking hits as though they were nothing as he broke the ground beneath his opponents.  Cassandra stood her ground before ramming into and through the defenses of those she faced.

Another barrier, then she brought a group of the Venatori to their knees with a wave of her hand.  The staff flew over her, the blade slicing one of them nearly in half as she danced away.  Their blades never touched her, the arrows sailing around and never striking their target.  
  
She laughed again, louder, blood running down her face, her armor, in her hair.  They had felled their enemies, and stood surrounded and on top of the bodies.  Cole looked at her as though she were a gift, Iron Bull more than pleased, and Cassandra in shock.  The elf smiled.  Let them think her mad.  


	6. Song: Enter the Kokari Wilds, Inon Zur, Dragon Age: Origins (OST)

Jasmine could taste the dread in the back of her throat.  She had been right; she was being hunted.  She watched them walking on the road, looking around them.  They must have gotten wind of her location, or it was just bad luck.  She turned into the woods; her only shelter had been the trees.  They had protected and guided her before, and she knew they would do so again.    
  



	7. Song: Stranglethorn Vale, Tracy Bush, World of Warcraft (OST)

She couldn’t believe her luck.  Jasmine had been without sleep for three days now, the paranoia of being found was too heavy in her mind.  She had done her best to keep her head down, to hide her face.  The Warden armor had been abandoned months ago, and wearing robes was too cumbersome.  A staff was out of the question.  
  
Now here she was with a Dalish clan.  They knew who she was, had heard legends of her.  Apparently her beauty was just as remarkable as her achievements.  Shelter was available to her now.  No sleeping in the trees, on the ground, without fire to warm her.  She knew she could trust them, there was no doubting that.  
  
Asleep in one of the aravels, safe, hidden, and quiet.  Real food, cooked over a warm fire.  Voices filled with respect and kindness.  She dreamed of Alistair, hoping he had found the same.  She held her hand close to chest, the hand with the wedding ring.  It was all she had right now.  
  



	8. Song: Burgess Kill/Captain and Ship, Greg Edmonson and Alan Steinberger, Firefly (OST)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a headcanon where the mages in the Circle have a version of The Game. It's in every Circle, and doesn't have a name to it, but the concept is quite the same. Because of this Delylah Trevelyan plays the deadly Orlesian version like a pro. Because she is.

Delylah moved among the people with delicate steps, firm and strong, her courage as steel.  Nothing was passed noticing, all gossip and secrets heard.  Face neutral, smile when necessary.  Talk was short, but smooth.  No insulting her this night, the nobles learned that quickly enough.  She could give a backhanded compliment faster than she could a smile, and do so with laughter in her eyes.    
  
Leliana was almost afraid.  Not for Delylah, but for the nobles.  The Orlesians had no idea what they were up against.  She watched her from a distance, hardly able to control her smile.  Delylah could kill them with a simple wave of her hand, but didn’t even hint at her power.  Instead she made threats with a compliment about a mask, insulted with a coy look.  
  
She played The Game like a master.  


	9. Song: The Destruction of Hometree, Avatar (OST)

Delylah was glad she had forgotten to eat before going into battle.  The Fade turned her stomach.  Never had she thought this would happen, that she would be physically in the Fade.  She didn’t fear for her companions, but for herself.  
  
The fighting was a twisted sickness, the voice of the demon booming around them as they fought off the smaller ones.  Cassandra screamed when she saw the spiders, or what she saw as spiders.  Iron Bull was cursing up a storm, and Varric managed himself with sarcasm.  For once she was grateful for the banter between Varric and Hawke.  Alistair was stronger than she ever thought he was.  The stories did him no justice.  
  
She would never again enjoy the color green.  Everywhere she looked was a sickening shade of it.  She could feel the bile in the back of her throat, and it burned.  Focus was so difficult here.  No, she would not succumb to this.  She is the Herald of Andraste, the Inquisitor, blessed and cursed with a gift she never asked for.    
  
For them she would be strong, hold herself firm.  They must never question her resolve.  
  
Now the great beast stood before them, and her fears were pushed back and away.  Now as not the time to feel.  Focus on the movements, the way it jumped, find the pattern.  The spirit of the Divine had sacrificed itself to aid them.  She would not see that sacrifice made in vain.  No, she would live!  She would win!  She will save her friends.  Curses flew from Iron Bull as he fought for himself, for them, to bring down this creature.  Cassandra gathered her wits, and Varric shot true.  They will win.


	10. Song: Cottage, Tangerine Dream, Legend (OST)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Delylah develops PTSD after the events at Adamant.

Around and around she moved, held close by Cullen’s hand.  So soft, so kind, guiding her across the dance floor.  She knew the steps, and followed his lead.  He lifted her with ease, as though she weighed nothing.  Not once did she falter, no toes stepped on.    
  
No.  That’s not possible; Cullen can't dance worth a wit.  This isn’t right.    
  
She’s dreaming.  This isn’t Cullen.  This is something else.  Is it a dream, a trick?  
  
There, she tripped.  He dropped her, and she landed hard on her knees.  The beautiful dress tore, then burned.  It was as ash on her skin.  
  
No Cullen.  No smile.  She screamed and screamed until she woke.  Why couldn’t she be gifted with a pleasant dream instead of a nightmare? 


	11. Song: Never Gone, Backstreet Boys, Never Gone album

“Delylah.”  Cullen touched her softly, bringing her back to herself.  “Are you well?”  
  
She couldn’t speak.  Her words twisted around her tongue as she ran her thumb over her fingers.  Maker, why did she have to be so damned nervous?  “Yes, I’m fine.  Don’t concern yourself.”  
  
He placed a finger under her chin, pulled her face up to look at him.  “You seem to be somewhere else right now.  Are you sure you’re well?”  
  
“Y-yes.”  She barely managed the word, just one word.  “Are you?  You seem more concerned about me than you are about the circles under your eyes.”  
  
He pulled his hand away, laughing softly.  Delylah wanted to kick herself right now.  The moment to kiss him was gone.  She wanted to kiss him, but couldn’t bring herself to do so.  Fighting Venatori, closing rifts, defeating Red Templars?  Those were simple, easy.  Why should this be any different?  
  



	12. Song: The Angel of Death, Steven Richard Davis, Steve Tavaglione, Brian Kilgore, Tina Guo, Mel Wesson, The Vikings (OST)

“This dancing between the two of them is ridiculous.”    
  
“You sound like Cullen, Josephine.”  Leliana giggled.  
  
“It’s so obvious!  The really need to kiss.  Delylah is a nervous wreck around him, and Cullen is being too respectful.  Surely he sees it?”  
  
“I have no doubt about that, but he isn’t seeing her as a woman.  She’s the Herald, a holy figure.”  Leliana paused a moment.  “Perhaps we ought to talk to Vivienne.  She and Delylah are close.”  She looked to Josephine, noting her friend’s sudden smile.    
  
“Delylah has mentioned more than once how much she hates the mage robes.  That and the simple attire she claims she is forced to wear while here.”    
  
“I think clothes for a woman of her station ought to help her."

“If nothing else, they would make Cullen see her as a woman.”  Josephine giggled as she met Leliana’s gaze.  “Cleavage has that effect.”


End file.
